


The Colors of Midnight

by SouthSideStory



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthSideStory/pseuds/SouthSideStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their village isn't the place it once was. This is what everyone says, and maybe it's true, but it doesn't matter to Sasuke. This is the only Konoha he's ever known, so what does it matter how things used to be? That's what he thinks, until the summer he turns sixteen, when a committee of strangers decides that it's time for him to marry the girl of their selection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Colors of Midnight

Their village isn’t the place it once was. This is what everyone says—but only quietly, and out of the earshot of the Godaime and his ANBU. Maybe it’s true, maybe the Leaf has changed since Orochimaru became Hokage, but it doesn’t matter to Sasuke. This is the only Konoha he’s ever known, so what does it matter how things used to be?

That’s what he thinks, until the summer he turns sixteen, when a committee of strangers decides that it’s time for him to marry the girl of their selection. Then he starts to consider that there’s a reason the villagers miss the old days. The freedom of choice is not a privilege the people of Konoha enjoy anymore.

Sasuke is the Hokage’s own apprentice, and he had hoped that this would exempt him from the law. When he suggests as much to Orochimaru the Godaime only laughs and says, “I wouldn’t make an exception for you even if I wanted to. You’re the last of the Uchiha Clan, and the sharingan needs to be passed on.”

So Sasuke shows up at the appointed hour to meet with the Engagement Committee and find out who they’ve chosen to be his wife.

* * *

Sakura pretends as though this is a morning like any other. That she isn’t going to be bred like a dog. She eats a light breakfast, dresses no differently than she usually would, and leaves her apartment. Takes the long way around the village, stopping at the fruit vendor in the market square to buy a red apple. She eats it on the way to the Engagement Office, trying to think of anything but Uchiha Sasuke.

At first it was just an infatuation. A childish crush on a handsome boy. But then Sakura was assigned to Team 7, and she truly got to know Sasuke. Things changed— _she_ changed—and her feelings deepened. She fell in love.

And now she’s going to be given to someone else. Whichever ninja she would make the most powerful children with, strengthening the next generation. This is the way things are done now.

Sakura throws away her apple core and enters the Engagement Office. Walks down the long, blue-tiled hallway to the room at the end, where she finds a dozen boys and girls waiting to find out who they’ve been matched with.

Sasuke is one of them. He’s sitting in a corner chair, looking bored and indifferent.

Her future husband is somewhere in this room. _What if it’s him? What if it’s Sasuke?_

Sakura takes the seat beside him and says, “You didn’t tell me you were being matched today.”

He looks at her sharply. “Well you didn’t tell me either.”

“I wasn’t accusing you,” Sakura says. “Just saying.”

A woman dressed all in grey opens the door and says, “Yamanaka Asuka and Matsumoto Oguri.”

Asuka visibly flinches, and Oguri lets out a deep sigh, sounding defeated already. They follow the woman in grey to the next room. As the minutes pass, more people are paired and summoned, until finally, only she and Sasuke are left alone.

Sakura’s breath catches and her cheeks flush. Unless there is some cruel joke at work, Sasuke is her match. They won’t know officially for another few minutes, when it’s their turn to face the Engagement Committee, so Sakura keeps her hands in her lap and her mouth shut. She dares to steal a glance at Sasuke, and he looks far from indifferent now. He’s scowling, clearly angry, and his fists are clenched at his sides.

The hope that had bloomed in her chest for a moment wilts.

Five minutes later the woman in grey returns, smiling mechanically. “Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura,” she says.

They trail after her down another hallway, this one tiled in white, to a conference room where the Engagement Committee sits. Seven shinobi, handpicked by Orochimaru to review every young ninja in Konoha and assign them spouses, sit at a long table.

“Welcome,” says the man in the middle. He speaks directly to Sasuke, as if Sakura is of no consequence. “I’m Director Fujiwara. As I’m sure you’ve gathered, Miss Haruno is your match. Her lineage was of some concern—as she has low-ranking, unskilled shinobi for parents—but Tsunade assures us that she is the most promising young kunoichi in this village. No less would be appropriate for the wife of the last Uchiha.”

Fujiwara looks to Sasuke expectantly, as if waiting for thanks. If it’s gratitude he’s seeking, Sakura imagines he’ll be waiting for it for a long time.

“What if I don’t accept it?” Sasuke asks brusquely. “What then?”

Fujiwara frowns. “You can’t reject a decision made by this committee,” he says. “Our selection is legally binding. You _will_ marry Miss Haruno within a month.”

When Sasuke refuses to take their engagement contract and marriage license from Fujiwara, the officer hands the papers to Sakura with an irritated hiss.

They walk out of the Engagement Office side by side, and it takes all of Sakura’s willpower not to break down and cry in front of the boy she loves.

“I’ll keep the paperwork until we have a chance to go to the courthouse,” she says, her voice carefully even.

“You don’t want a real wedding?” he asks flatly.

“It would be a sham, so no, I don’t,” Sakura says. She shuffles the contract and the license just to have something to do with her hands. “Why would I want a real wedding when you obviously hate the idea of marrying me?”

“Don’t take this personally, Sakura,” he says.

She bites back a laugh. “How can I not take it personally? You made it clear in that office that you’d rather marry anyone in Konoha but me. What I don’t understand is _why_ , Sasuke? I—I know you don’t like me the way I like you,” she says, and now she’s blushing. Her affections for him are no secret, though, so why is she embarrassed? “But I thought you at least cared for me as a teammate. That you might rather marry a friend than a stranger.”

“I’m not fit to be anyone’s partner,” Sasuke says. “Least of all yours. I don’t want to be married, and you deserve better than a reluctant husband. A bad husband.”

Sakura feels herself soften, her whole body leaning a fraction closer to his as she reaches out and places her hand on his arm. “I think you could make a wonderful husband, Sasuke.”

“Let’s meet at the courthouse next Saturday at one o’clock and get this over with,” he says.

He pulls away from her touch.

* * *

Sasuke marries Haruno Sakura on a hot August afternoon. They say a few words in front of a court clerk, exchange rote vows, sign the license, and it’s done. They’re husband and wife. 

Sasuke wore his finest informal clothes, but Sakura came in her medic gear, short hair tied up in a ponytail. She says she has a shift at the hospital from two to ten and needs to get going. He doesn’t know whether to be offended by this or impressed that she’s not even taking off work for her own wedding.

“Should I come by your apartment after I’m done?” she asks, her voice carefully nonchalant.

“I suppose,” he says. “I can help you move your things tomorrow.”

“Why are you assuming that I’m leaving my flat behind?” Sakura asks. “You could move in with me.”

“My apartment is larger,” he reasons. “And nicer.”

She runs her hands over her face, takes a deep breath, then says, “Fine. Whatever. I’ll move in with you.”

“Don’t act so overjoyed,” Sasuke says dryly.

“Then don’t act like such an ass,” she says.

Sakura leaves him in front of the courthouse, hurrying away in the direction of the hospital.

The next eight hours are long and slow. He locks himself in his apartment and pretends not to be home when Naruto comes by. No doubt to deliver congratulations that Sasuke is in no mood to accept graciously.

He lets Sakura in at half after ten. She looks tired, dark shadows purpling the fair skin beneath her green eyes, and she smells like betadine and blood. She’s got an overnight bag clutched in her hands, and when he asks her how her shift went, Sakura doesn’t even answer. She goes to the bathroom, and a moment later he hears the sound of the shower coming on.

When she emerges, dressed in a plain nightgown, damp hair darkened to a deeper shade of pink, Sasuke says, “We should talk.”

Sakura nods and takes a seat next to him on the edge of the bed. “You may have been cornered into doing this,” she says, “but we don’t have to play by their rules. If you want, this can be a marriage in name only. We can go about our business as we used to before we were married, and… and if you want to see other people, I can accept that. But I’d ask you to be discreet, because I don’t want to be a laughingstock.”

Sasuke looks at her, dark eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so,” he says. “I’m not unfaithful. I may not have wanted this marriage, but I won’t disrespect it—or you—like that. And to be honest, I’m angry that you thought I would want to.”

Sakura parts her lips like she wants to say something, but no words come out. Then she climbs into bed and gets under the covers, facing away from him.

Sasuke spends his wedding night back to back with his new bride. Neither of them sleeps.

* * *

“So you’re married to Sasuke,” Ino says. “You’re so lucky.”

They’re cooking at Ino’s place, and Sakura is busy grating ginger. “I don’t feel very lucky.”

Ino rolls her eyes. “Oh please. Don’t even pretend you didn’t want this. Unless—is the sex bad?”

Sakura says, “Ino!”

“What?” Ino asks innocently, as she chops up the skinless chicken. “It’s a valid question.”  

“It isn’t bad,” Sakura says. “It isn’t anything.”

Ino’s mouth falls open. “Are you meaning to tell me that you’re still a virgin? A _married_ virgin?”

“Yes. But don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?” Sakura says. “We just didn’t want to do it yet.”

Ino waves a careless hand. “Oh, please. All boys want to do it all the time. So that means you shut him down. Were you scared? Was that it?”

“No,” Sakura says, defensive and angry. “Just drop it, okay?”

Ino frowns, but she says, “Fine,” anyway and they go back to cooking.

That night, as she and Sasuke lie with their backs to each other for the fourth night in a row, Sakura asks plainly, “Have you ever had sex?”

“No,” Sasuke says. “Have you?”

Sakura is glad that it’s nighttime and she isn’t facing him, so he can’t see how furiously she’s blushing. “No.” Then she asks, “Would you like to do it?”

Sasuke is silent for a long moment, so long that Sakura thinks he’s not going to answer. But then he turns her over, so that they’re looking at one another in the darkness. “Why are you asking this?”

“Because we’re married. Shouldn’t we be having sex?” Sakura asks weakly. “Don’t you want to?”

“Just because I want to doesn’t mean we should,” he says.

That might be true, but even this small admission has Sakura’s heart racing. It gives her the courage to lean closer and press her lips to his closed mouth. He doesn’t do anything at first, just lies there motionless as she kisses him. Then slowly, warily, he responds. Puts a hand in her hair and kisses back, opens his mouth to her.

It only lasts for a heartbeat, though, before he’s pulling away and saying something about needing to rest before his mission tomorrow. They lie back to back again, but this time Sakura closes her eyes with the taste of Sasuke to savor as she sleeps.

* * *

He doesn’t mean to think about his wife, but Sasuke’s thoughts keep circling back to Sakura and the kiss they shared. The taste of her mouth, the smell of her hair, the soft noise she made in the back of her throat. He wants to do it again. Wants to do more, much more, but Sakura loves him in a way he can't love anyone, and it wouldn’t be fair to use her.

Their marriage starts out cold: dinners are silent, they sleep with a foot of space between them at night, and Sakura spends so much time at the hospital that he’s certain she’s working overtime. But as the weeks pass they warm to each other. Whatever anger or resentment Sakura was holding about their forced nuptials seems to fade. She starts behaving the way she used to, when they were just teammates. Affectionate, kind, compassionate. It once bothered him, how obvious she was about her feelings, but over the years he’s grown used to it. Even expects it, almost. And he finds that it’s impossible to live with Sakura and not grow fond of her. Her presence is comforting, and for better or for worse, she’s his family now. His only family.

There are nights when she wakes him from his dreams, shakes him out of memories best forgotten and holds him while he calms. Sasuke hates this, that she sees him at his weakest, sometimes crying like a child, sometimes thrashing and shouting.

This time she runs her fingers through his hair and holds him close as he adjusts from the redness of his nightmare to the colors of midnight. He’s sweating and his face is tear-streaked and he can’t shake the sensation that there’s blood all around, all over him.

He takes a shower, stands under the spray of scalding water until it turns cold and Sakura knocks on the door, asking if he’s all right.

When he doesn’t answer, she says, “Sasuke-kun? Are you okay?”

He gets out, wraps a towel around his waist, and opens the door. Sakura takes a step back, and when her eyes fall to his bare chest, she blushes.

“Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

He wants to be close to her, he realizes. So Sasuke pulls Sakura into his arms and hugs her, breathes in the scent of her hair and enjoys the warmth of her body. She makes a small sound that might be borne from contentment and hugs him back.

“I’m here for you,” she says. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Thank you,” Sasuke says.  

That night, they sleep with limbs entwined, wrapped up in one another.

* * *

Naruto is the next of their class to get married. Hinata was matched with him, to Hyuuga Hiashi’s great disapproval. Rumor has it that he tried to petition the Engagement Committee to change this and pair his daughter with someone from their clan, but his request was denied. All the same, once he accepted that he could do nothing to stop it, Hiashi demanded that the event be grand, as befits the wedding of a Hyuuga heiress.

The night before he’s set to make Hinata his wife, Sakura goes with Naruto to Team 7’s favorite rooftop (the bakery) and asks how he’s doing.

“Okay,” he says. “Hiashi sure is scary, though. And he hates me.”

“He’ll love you once he gets to know you,” Sakura says, even though she isn’t sure this is true. Prejudice against Naruto for being the jinchuriki of the Nine-Tails runs deep among the older generations. But that isn’t what her friend needs to hear right now.

“It’s not so bad, being married, right?” Naruto asks.

Sakura smiles softly. “There are good days and bad days, but I care about Sasuke, and I want to be with him. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“He’s gonna fall in love with you,” Naruto says. “Mark my words. I know the bastard, and he’s always liked you much better than any other girl.”

She punches him playfully on the arm. “Being able to stand me isn’t exactly evidence of love, Naruto.”

“Whatever,” he says smugly. “You’ll see.”

“Enough about _my_ marriage,” Sakura says. “This should be about you, and your wedding tomorrow.”

“At least Hinata likes me,” Naruto says. “Even if I’m not really good enough for her.” He sounds as nervous as she’s ever heard him, and it makes Sakura sad to see his brash confidence shaken.

“Don’t let Hiashi’s opinion get you down. What matters is what Hinata thinks,” Sakura says. “Besides, any girl would be lucky to have you.”

“You really think so?” he asks.

“I know so,” she says, “and Hinata knows it too.”

They stay up late, just talking, until Sakura is too tired to keep her eyes open any longer. She says goodnight to her best friend and hurries home, where she’s surprised to find Sasuke waiting up for her. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea, and as soon as she enters the room, she knows something is bothering him.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Sakura says. “Why didn’t you go to sleep?”

“I can’t sleep without you anymore,” he says, and he sounds half-ashamed, half-angry about it. “How’s Naruto?”

“He’s got some pre-wedding jitters, but I think he’s going to be fine,” Sakura says. “Are you going to tell me what’s upset you?”

Sasuke stands, but he makes no move to draw any nearer to her. “You were out until three o’clock in the morning with another man. Why do you think I’m upset?”

It takes her a moment to process what he’s just said, and when she does, Sakura laughs. It only seems to make him more irritated, but she can’t help it. “You’re angry because I was hanging out with Naruto? Are you kidding me?”

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Sasuke says coolly.

“I can’t believe this,” Sakura says, and she puts her hands on her hips. “We’re talking about _Naruto_ here, the same idiot we’ve teamed with for almost five years. He’s getting married tomorrow, and besides, he’s only my friend. Surely you know that?”

Sasuke scowls, then says, “I don’t want to fight. Let’s just go to bed. I’m tired.”

Sakura is impossibly tired too, so she lets the conversation go.

* * *

That night, Sasuke has a new dream. He sees none of the horrors of his past, but he’s wandering his apartment, looking for Sakura. She’s nowhere to be found, and all of her things are gone: her clothes have disappeared from the closet, her books are removed from the shelf in the den, even her hairbrush is missing from the bathroom. He pushed her too far, pushed her away, and now she’s left him.

* * *

Naruto and Hinata’s wedding is beautiful, and the reception is as grandiose as Sakura could have possibly imagined. It takes place at the nicest inn in Konoha, and there’s more food than she’s ever seen in one place in her life. She drinks rice wine liberally and eats more nigiri than is probably wise. She tries to keep from thinking about the fact that half the people in this room could see through her clothes, through her skin, right down to her chakra points, if they wanted to.

There’s a lovely courtyard behind the inn, and Sakura goes there to get some fresh air. It’s the beginning of March, just days away from her seventeenth birthday. The air is still cool at this time of night, and the courtyard smells of blooming spring flowers.

She took extra care with her appearance tonight. She’s wearing her finest silk kimono, put geta on her feet, and pinned up her hair (which is growing long again). She’d hoped that Sasuke would notice, maybe even say something, but so far he hasn’t acknowledged how she looks at all.

Sakura hears him come up behind her. Sasuke doesn’t say anything, but he puts a hand on her waist and stands close enough that she can feel the warmth of him against her back. He turns her around and looks at her with such heat that it makes her legs shake, just a little. Then Sasuke pushes her against the wall of the inn and kisses her.

* * *

Sasuke didn’t mean to do this, but he couldn’t help it. All night every man in that inn has had his eyes on Sakura, and he feels the need to remind her that she’s his and no one else’s.

When they part, he looks down at her—at the rosy flush in her cheeks, the pale green of her eyes, the ripe swollenness of her well-loved mouth. The sight is too inviting, and he kisses her again, this time more deeply. His hand wanders to her small breast, and he cups her through the silk of her kimono. Sakura gasps against his lips, but she only kisses him back more fiercely and leans into him.

“Please,” she says.

“What do you need?” Sasuke asks, and he’s shocked by how breathless he sounds, how _weak_.

“I need you to touch me,” Sakura says. “Wherever you want.”

Sasuke takes a steadying breath. “And what if I want to touch you everywhere?” he asks.

She bites her plump bottom lip, and Sasuke feels his cock hardening. “Then that’s what you should do,” Sakura whispers.

He slides a hand beneath her kimono, enjoys the softness and strength of her thigh, the curve of her hip. Sasuke plays with the edge of her underwear. They’re lacy, he can tell from the texture, but he wonders what color they are. He touches her beneath her panties, feels the coarse curls that shield her sex, then lower. When he slides two fingers inside of her she whimpers quietly and bucks against him. He fucks her with his hand, thinking about how it would feel to have his cock where his fingers are now, all while he kisses her throat, sucking at the sensitive skin there. Sakura is a trembling wreck, and she keeps trying to bite back breathy moans without much success.

“More,” she says. “Harder. Please.”

He thrusts his fingers into her more forcefully. Sakura closes her eyes and curses, and for some reason it turns him on even more to hear filthy words coming out of her pretty mouth. He’s never been this hard in his life, but Sasuke knows that if he lets her touch him he’ll end up fucking her against this brick wall. Tempting as that prospect is, it wouldn’t be the best way to take his wife’s virginity (or give up his own).

“Don’t stop,” she whimpers, and he can tell from the way she’s tensing all over and the broken note in her voice that she’s close, right on the edge. When she comes, Sasuke kisses her, so that he can swallow her moans.

Afterward, Sakura slumps against the wall on shaky legs. Her kimono is askew and her hair is falling down, but she looks beautiful like this. Perfect, even.

She reaches for him, but Sasuke steps back. As much as he desires for her to make him come, he needs to maintain his discipline even more. To prove to himself that his want for Sakura is an element he can control, a thing that doesn’t break his willpower.

* * *

Her husband is an enigma. One night he’s angry with her, if not unkind, and the next he’s making her moan, giving her as much pleasure as he can. Then the morning after he acts like nothing happened. Like she wasn’t just coming with his hand down her panties twelve hours ago. Sakura doesn’t know what to make of this.

So that evening, while they’re lying in bed, she says, “I liked what we did yesterday.”

Sasuke is quiet for a long while, but then he tucks a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and says, “I liked it too.” He’s staring at her so intently, with the same hungry, possessive look he gave her yesterday in the courtyard. Sakura’s heart beats faster, and she wonders whether he might kiss her.

He does, but not on the mouth. Sasuke starts at her throat, unbuttons her pajama top, and kisses a line down her chest and stomach. She can guess what he intends to do, and the thought alone makes her as wet as she is nervous.

“Sasuke,” she says, “I want to take care of you too. Let me touch you.”

He pulls her pajama pants down, then panties too. Sasuke smirks at her and says, “Be quiet, Sakura.”

She starts to argue, but her protests turn to wordless cries when he puts his mouth between her legs.

* * *

Sasuke tells himself that he isn’t using Sakura. He’s done nothing but pleasure her and hasn’t even taken her up on her offers to return the favor. But as the days pass, touching her without being touched in turn is only getting harder. Even so, he has this handled. He’s in control.

Sasuke meets Naruto at the Thirteenth Training Ground to spar, and he almost hits him just to shut him up about his honeymoon. His friend is a disgustingly happy newlywed, and hearing him say that the last week had been perfect only reminds Sasuke of all the problems in his own marriage. It would be selfish to ruin Naruto’s good mood, though, so he keeps these thoughts to himself.

The mild March turns to a rainy April, which fades into a hellishly hot summer. All of their peers are matched. Ino marries some ANBU boy, Shino is paired with a Nara girl, and Kiba is assigned to wed a kunoichi three years his senior. Somehow Chouji ends up with a beautiful girl from from the Lightning Country, and Shikamaru’s marries the Kazekage’s fierce daughter.

By Sasuke’s seventeenth birthday, everyone he went to class with at the Academy is a husband or wife. Some seem happy and some seem miserable, but he doubts any of them have a marriage as imbalanced as his. Sakura’s love is evident in every look and every touch they share, and he sometimes feels guilty that he can’t return the same affection. Even so, she’s grown frighteningly important to him. She is the sweetest thing he’s known since he lost his clan, but as much as he wants to express his gratitude for the comfort she gives him, Sasuke can never seem to find the right words.

He still isn’t ready to let her touch him in bed. The thought of being that vulnerable, that exposed, is as terrifying as it is tempting. Sakura doesn’t push him, much as she obviously wants to give the same pleasure she’s receiving. That’s one of the best things about his wife: her patience. She never pries into his past or tries to force him into anything he doesn’t want.

If he could still love, Sasuke thinks, he would love her.

* * *

Sasuke hates the place she works. Sakura knows this. He told her once that he was in the hospital for a week after his clan was slaughtered, and she expects that this is why he has no love for it. So it surprises her when a fellow medic says her husband is in the lobby.

Sakura finds him standing by the door, stone-faced. Nobody else would know that he’s anxious right now, but she can tell simply from the tense way he’s holding himself that this place makes him nervous. After a year of marriage, she knows all the secrets of Sasuke’s body language.

She smiles and asks, “What are you doing here? I thought you were still on your mission to the River Country.”

“I got back about an hour ago,” he says. “Aren’t you getting off work soon?”

“Yeah,” Sakura says. “My shift just ended.”

“Good. I was thinking we could go to dinner. I don’t feel like cooking tonight,” Sasuke says.

She can’t help it; her smile widens. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere but Ichiraku,” he says.

They find a little restaurant on the southern side of the village and have dinner together. The place isn’t fancy, but it’s quiet and dimly lit and the food is delicious. It isn’t often that they go out like this, and tonight is the first time Sasuke has initiated anything that might resemble a date.

It might not be a big step, but it’s progress, and Sakura will take what she can get.

* * *

Orochimaru’s assistant quietly informs him that the Hokage received a tip regarding Itachi’s whereabouts, and thirty minutes later Sasuke is packing gear and preparing himself to face his brother. When he tells Sakura, her green eyes go wide. She hugs him fiercely but says nothing. He expected her to beg him not to go, whenever this time came, but perhaps she knows him well enough by now that she understands nothing will dissuade him from his purpose.

“I—I love you,” she says. He’s known the depth of her affection since they were half-children, but this is the first time she’s ever said it out loud, and Sasuke is shocked by the effect hearing it has on him. His heart pounds in his chest, his throat tightens, and his hands start to shake.

“No one has said that to me in nine years.” His voice comes out strained and soft.

“And that’s why you have to go,” she says. “I know he stole so much from you, Sasuke.”

Sakura kisses his lips gently and cups his face between her hands. “Please come back to me,” she whispers.

Sasuke can’t promise that. Itachi is one of the strongest shinobi to ever come out of Konoha, and he honestly doesn’t know if he’s skilled enough to win this fight. He has to try, regardless, because he’s given up so much for the sake of revenge. It can’t all have been for nothing.

* * *

The next two days are the longest of Sakura’s life. She buries herself in work, half for the distraction and half because she wants to be at the hospital if Sasuke needs healing when he returns.

If he returns.

_Don’t think like that. He’ll come home. He will._

And he does, after a fashion. Her husband walks through the gates weary, slashed by shuriken, bruised, and chakra depleted, but alive. Tsunade heals him herself, and she says he’ll be well enough physically in a few days. What she doesn’t need to say is that Sasuke is going to bear other scars from killing his brother, and there’s nothing she can do to fix those.

The Hokage is furious with his apprentice for leaving Konoha without permission, and for risking the continuation of the Uchiha bloodline. He puts Sasuke on probation for four months.

He’s allowed to go home, but Tsunade orders strict bed rest until Saturday. Sakura expects to have to fight Sasuke on this, because he’s as stubborn as he is active, but to her surprise he retires to their bed without any fuss and sleeps for sixteen hours. He wakes, eats an apple, and goes straight back to sleep.

Once Saturday comes, Sasuke trains like he hasn’t trained in years—relentlessly and alone, never with her or Naruto. He barely sleeps at all, and nightmares overtake him every time he closes his eyes.

When his thrashing wakes her for the third time in one night, Sakura does her best to soothe him. Once he’s calmer, Sasuke gets out of bed and says, “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“What?” Sakura asks. “You don’t need to do that. I don’t mind helping you—”

“You can’t help me,” he snaps. “So why don’t you stop trying?”

“Because I love you,” she whispers.

For a moment his hard expression flickers, but then he grabs a pillow and goes to the living room, leaving her alone in a bed made for two.

* * *

Sasuke doesn’t know what to do with himself. He can barely sleep, he isn’t hungry, and the things he normally enjoys have lost their appeal. All he can think about is Itachi and their family. All he can see when he dreams are his dead brother and his dead parents. Red blood and black shadows and mangekyou sharingan eyes.

Itachi is gone, and Sasuke will never have to fear him again. Except it isn’t the monster who slaughtered their clan that he thinks about. It’s the big brother who always poked him on the forehead and said, “Maybe next time.”

On the twenty-third day of his probation Sasuke realizes he’s mourning Itachi. Whatever else he might have been, his brother was the only blood relative he had left in all the world. Now he’s utterly alone. Save Sakura, he’s the last Uchiha.

He hates himself for grieving. What kind of person would miss a butcher like Itachi? And after all the years he spent despising him, it confounds Sasuke to understand that even through the pain and betrayal, he still loved his brother.

Sakura makes his favorite meals, trying to tempt him to eat. He’s sleeping in the bed again, because staying on the couch didn’t have the intended effect. Sasuke still woke her with his nightmares, and she always came to comfort him, no matter how many times he told her she didn’t have to.

His probation only worsens everything. He doesn’t have any missions to throw himself into, no assassinations or reconnaissance to distract him from his thoughts. Sasuke is stuck in Konoha with nothing to do but train, so he spends hours upon hours at the training grounds, practicing his taijutsu and ninjutsu. Between this exercise and his eating habits, he drops fifteen pounds in three weeks.

Early on a Tuesday morning, he passes a weapons shop, and on display in the window is a katana identical to the one Itachi carried during his ANBU days. The blade he used to cut down their parents. Suddenly, Sasuke can see his mother’s and father’s corpses, smell the blood, hear his brother’s voice. He’s right back there, in his old house, as if no time had passed. He hurries home, runs straight to the bathroom, and vomits. After he cleans himself up, Sasuke goes to the back yard and starts practicing his kata. He works from noon to sunset without taking a break, until he feels too lightheaded to stand any longer. Then he sits down and puts his head in his hands.

That’s how Sakura finds him an hour later. Sitting in the dirt, too exhausted to move. She helps Sasuke stand and walks him back inside.

“I’m dirty,” he says, once they’re in their bedroom.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Sakura asks.

“Take one with me,” he says.

There’s nothing sexual about this request; Sasuke just doesn’t want to be alone, and he’s craving the comfort that comes with closeness.

He feels detached from his body, as if it belongs to someone else. Like he’s watching some other man undress and get in the shower with his wife. Sakura washes his hair and scrubs his back, and the sensation of her hands on his body grounds him, brings him back to his own skin.

* * *

“I’m worried about Sasuke,” she tells Naruto.

Her husband refused to join them for lunch, just like he did the last time Naruto called for a Team 7 outing. He’s plagued by nightmares, dropping weight, and isolating himself, and Sakura doesn’t know what to do.

She says as much to Naruto, who pats her on the back. “He’s going through a rough time. All you can do is be there for him.”

Sakura nods, wipes at her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, and says, “Maybe you can get through to him. You understand what he’s going through better than I do. And… you’ve always been his most important person.”

Naruto frowns. “I don’t think that’s true,” he says. “Maybe when we were kids, yeah, but not anymore. You’re his _wife_ , Sakura.”

She laughs under her breath. “A wife he doesn’t want. He told me the day we got engaged that he had no interest in being anyone’s husband.”

Naruto shakes his head and says, “Bastard. He shouldn’t have told you that.”

“No, I’m glad he did,” Sakura says. “At least I know where we stand.”

* * *

Things get better when his probation ends in December. Going on missions helps to distract him, and getting outside the walls of Konoha for the first time in months is freeing.

His probation might be over, but Orochimaru is still punishing him. The Hokage only gives him the shortest, most tedious assignments, rather than the more dangerous and challenging missions Sasuke has become accustomed to.

“I can’t risk your life until you’ve given Konoha the next Uchiha,” Orochimaru says. “How is that coming along, by the way?”

“None of your business,” Sasuke says, more forcefully than he probably should.

“Temper, temper.” The Godaime smiles that serpentine grin that looks barely human and says, “You’ve been married to your dear wife for almost a year-and-a-half. Plenty of time to make a child, and yet her stomach stays flat. I do hope there’s nothing wrong with her, or we may need to find you a different wife.”

_Like hell you will_ , Sasuke thinks, but he keeps his face perfectly neutral and only asks, “Am I dismissed?”

“For now,” Orochimaru says, no longer smiling.

* * *

“He said _what_?” Sakura asks.

“That he’ll make us divorce if I don’t get you pregnant soon,” Sasuke says.

She sits on the edge of the bed and forces herself to take deep breaths. If she doesn’t calm down, she’s going to cry.

Sasuke sits next to her and asks, “What do you want to do?”

Sakura smiles weakly, takes his hand in hers, and says, “You know I love you, that I want to be married to you, that I want to have your children. So the better question is what do _you_ want, Sasuke?”

He sits quietly for a long while, then says, “I want to stay married to you.”

She looks at him, surprised, and asks, “Why?”

“You matter to me, Sakura. Surely you know that by now,” he says, as if this should be obvious to her.

“So what are you saying, exactly?” she asks, heart pounding hard. “If you don’t want a divorce,  then we have to—to make a baby. Are you ready for that?”

Sasuke squeezes her hand, a gentle reassurance. “No, and I don’t think we should try for a child until we’re both prepared for it. I don’t care what Orochimaru says. He can threaten me with everything he’s got; I’ll kill him before I let him separate us.”

* * *

The sadness and grief that had gripped him for months isn’t gone, but Sasuke is having more good days than bad lately, and for that he is thankful. He’s regained most of the weight he lost throughout the fall, and his nightmares aren’t as frequent. Part of this is simply due to time (it’s been almost six months since he killed his brother), but he also has Sakura to thank for whatever progress he’s made. Knowing someone loves him helps to lessen the pain. And despite his dismal mood, where he’s at times been unkind, she’s never left his side, never stopped supporting him.

_I’m lucky_ , he realizes, on a frosty February morning. Lucky to have a wife like Sakura.

They’re still in bed, curled up together beneath the blankets. Grey light is beginning to creep between the gaps in the blinds, slowly illuminating their bedroom. Sakura sleeps on, one leg thrown over his hip, her head nestled against his chest. He can hear the steady cadence of her breathing, feel the soft rise and fall of her breast against his body. Sasuke is strangely content, overcome by a sense of peace. He hasn’t felt this way since he was a child—since before he lost his family—and he knows that as long as he has Sakura, everything will be okay. Maybe not always easy, but he’ll be able to get through it.

* * *

“I’m pregnant,” Ino says dully.

Sakura sets down her teacup and says, “Um, congratulations?”

“You mean condolences,” Ino snaps. “My life is basically over now.”

“I’m sorry,” Sakura says. “If you’re not ready for a baby, then this must be really hard. How does Sai feel about it?”

“Who knows? He’s got the emotional range of the average cat. When I told him he just said, ‘Oh. That’s good.’” Ino rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her jasmine tea.

“How far along are you?” Sakura asks. “If you don’t mind telling me.”

“About two months,” Ino says, “and I’m sick as a dog. Puking every ten minutes. Tea is about the only thing I can keep down. That’s why I suggested this place instead of a restaurant for our outing.”

“That should go away in the next six weeks or so,” Sakura says. “Have you been to the hospital yet?”

Ino looks down at the table, a little shamefaced. “No.”

“Well, that’s okay,” Sakura says gently, “but you should probably go soon. Just to keep you both healthy.”

Ino’s bottom lip trembles and tears slip down her cheeks. “I’m awful,” she says. “You know Karui and Temari are pregnant right now too? And they’re both so happy about it that it makes me feel like a terrible person. ”

“I’d heard about Temari from Shikamaru, but I didn’t know Karui was having a baby,” Sakura says. She reaches across the table and takes Ino’s hand in hers. “You are _not_ awful, and you shouldn’t compare yourself to Karui or Temari. However you feel is okay, and that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Ino nods, knuckles away her tears, and says, “Thanks.”

That night, as they’re lying in bed, Sakura says to Sasuke, “Ino told me she was pregnant this morning. All of our friends are having babies.”

“Good for them,” he says flatly.

“Is it?” Sakura asks. “We’re all so young. Ino’s not even eighteen yet. It’s not fair that we got pushed into marrying so early—not that I’m unhappy with you. You know I love you.”

Sasuke opens his mouth, like he means to say something back, but he doesn’t.

* * *

He makes love to Sakura with his hands, feels her tight around his fingers as she writhes beneath him. She’s so beautiful: skin sweat-slicked, eyes darkened with passion, pink hair tousled, crying out and begging for more. It’s making him almost painfully hard, but Sasuke pushes down his own desire and focuses on hers. Thrusts his fingers into her deeper, faster, hitting the places he knows unravel her most. Sakura moans his name, and a jolt of lust warms his belly, hardens his cock even more. He’s going to come just from pleasuring her if he isn’t careful, so Sasuke closes his eyes. He hopes that if he can’t see her, naked and trembling, he’ll be able to keep control.

“Please,” she whimpers, “I want more.”

He slides down Sakura’s body, leaving a trail of wet kisses across the pale landscape of her skin. But she grips him by the hair and says, breathless, “No, that’s not what I need.”

Sasuke looks at his wife—at the mess he’s made of her—and he knows what it is she’s asking for. He waits for the nervousness, the hesitation that has held him back for nearly two years of marriage, but it doesn’t come. All he feels is a yearning to join their bodies, to have her in every way.

He pulls his hand away from Sakura, and she makes a desperate sound, obviously bereft. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you need,” Sasuke says.

He gets on his knees before her, pulls her slender legs over his shoulders, and presses his cock to her sex. Sasuke waits a moment, gives his wife any chance to protest, to change her mind, but Sakura only looks at him with loving eyes and bucks against him. That’s all the reassurance he needs.

In the moment that their bodies come together, he’s flooded by feeling. Pleasure, desire, and something else, some soft emotion that makes him tender toward her, that he’s too overwhelmed to identify.

It’s good that she was already on the edge of a climax, because Sasuke is too, and he isn’t going to last long. He thrusts into her slowly at first, trying to keep a hold on himself, but her whimpered pleas—for him to have her harder, to make her come now—undo his discipline, and his gentle rhythm gets lost. Sasuke pounds into her, control abandoned, until Sakura is arching up against him, legs tense and mouth open. She lets out a staggered cry that goes on and on, and the sound of his wife reaching her release spurs on his own. He jerks against her once, twice, and then he’s biting back a groan as he comes, lost in bliss.

Then they part and fall to the rumpled sheets, lying side by side, breathing hard. And it isn’t until the world rights itself around him that Sasuke realizes what he’s done.

“Fuck, we weren’t careful,” he says. “You could get pregnant.”

“I know,” Sakura says, and he can hear the strain in her voice. “There’s nothing we can do about it now, though, except hope that I don’t.”

Sasuke knows he should worry, but that will have to come later, because at this moment the only thing he wants to do is kiss his wife until they’re too weary to stay awake.

* * *

It must be past noon when Sakura finally stirs. She and Sasuke stayed up until almost four in the morning, just kissing, talking, and holding one another. Now she aches between her legs, but it’s a good hurt, a tenderness that reminds her of the night before.

Her husband is already awake, watching her with a soft expression. He smiles when she yawns, and Sakura’s heart beats faster at the sight.

“How do you feel?” Sasuke asks.

“Good,” Sakura says. She wraps her arms around him, buries her face in the crook of his neck, and kisses his pulse point. “Happy.”

“Me too.” He runs his fingers through her long hair and says, “You’re letting it grow out.”

She shrugs. “I’m ready for a change.”

Sakura means to get prepared for work—her next shift starts in an hour-and-a-half—but somehow she and Sasuke end up in the shower together, touching each other under the spray of hot water. He takes her from behind, his strong body pressing her against the slick, tiled wall. She’s a little sore from last night, but it feels too good to complain. This time he pulls out at the last moment and comes on her back. Sakura likes the feel of his release on her skin, but she lets him wash it away, kissing her shoulder all the while.

A birth control pill or shot would be safer, but those have been illegal for years, ever since Orochimaru implemented the marriage laws. Maybe a child will come of their lovemaking last night, maybe not, but Sakura is finally confident that whatever happens, she and Sasuke will face it together.

After work, she and her husband meet Naruto and Hinata at a fancy restaurant. Sakura and her teammates order sake, but Hinata only drinks water. When she gives her friend’s wife a curious look, Hinata blushes a deep red. So it’s no surprise to Sakura when Naruto announces halfway through dinner that he’s going to be a father in six months.

* * *

He’s in love with his wife. Sasuke isn’t sure when it happened, or how, but Sakura has managed to work her way into his heart. The time they spend together is the happiest he’s known in years, and he thinks about her constantly. Her kindness and beauty, the brightness of her smile, the warmth of her affection.

Sakura deserves to know the truth, that her love is returned, but Sasuke doesn’t know how to tell her. He’s always been a man of action, more suited to battle than confessions. So he keeps this to himself, at least for now.

* * *

Sakura asks a fellow medic to draw her blood, hurries the samples to the lab, and tells them to rush the results. Two hours later she’s looking at her own blood work, and the answer is as plain as it is life-changing: she’s pregnant.

Sasuke is gone on a mission, and for just a moment, she’s thankful that he’s away from the village. As much as she needs him right now, she’s afraid to tell him this news. The last time they talked about the prospect of children her husband had plainly said he wasn’t ready to be a father. But even as nervous as she is to share this with Sasuke, Sakura can’t help but feel happy.

At home, she stands in front of the mirror and places her palm over her still-flat stomach, wondering how she will look in eight months, rounded with the weight of their child.

Sasuke returns two days later, and the first thing he does is pull Sakura into his arms and kiss her. She kisses back, but he must feel the tension in her body, because he rests his forehead against hers and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“We’re having a baby,” Sakura whispers.

When Sasuke doesn’t respond, she steps back and wraps her arms around her middle. “I know you don’t want this,” Sakura says, and she can’t help it, her voice thickens and she starts to cry.

“Shh.” Sasuke cups her face in his hands, wipes away her tears with his thumbs. “I didn’t want us to be cornered into parenthood, our hands forced by Orochimaru or anybody else,” he says, “but I’m not unhappy about this, Sakura.”

“You’re—you’re not?” she asks.

“No, I’m not.” He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. “You’re going to be a good mother.”

She gives him a wavering smile. “And you’re going to be a good father.”

* * *

His wife has an easy pregnancy. Her morning sickness is mild and short-lived, and even after she starts showing, Sakura says she feels wonderful. She smiles wider and laughs more, and when she thinks no one is listening she’ll sing to the baby. Just nonsense lullabies that soothe their little girl when she starts to kick.

Sakura asks whether he might want to name their child after his mother, but Sasuke decides he doesn’t want to saddle his daughter with that kind of legacy. Instead, he and Sakura go through a book of baby names and playfully argue until they come to an agreement on Sarada.

At first he was scared of the prospect of fatherhood, but as the weeks pass he grows calmer. In the evenings, before he and Sakura turn off the lights, Sasuke will sometimes kiss his wife’s belly and talk to the baby, just so that when their daughter is born she will already know the sound of his voice.

The fear comes back during Sakura’s labor, but once it’s over, and he’s holding Sarada in his arms, he feels too overwhelmed by happiness to be afraid anymore.

The night they bring their daughter home, Sasuke holds Sakura, kisses the nape of her neck, and whispers, “I love you,” against her soft skin.

He can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “I was wondering when you were finally going to say it.”


End file.
